


Return To Me

by Chrononautical



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical After Life, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Other less canonical ideas about after life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 23:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11838867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrononautical/pseuds/Chrononautical
Summary: Kili died, but he left Tauriel with a promise that she can hold in one hand. So she tracks him down.





	Return To Me

She could have gone home. Back to the trees of her birthplace, to revel in starlight with her own kind. Yet it was no home to her any longer. Her love was buried in the earth, entombed by rock and stone among the bones of his ancestors. She would find no rest among the green leaves of her own people. 

Some of her kind faded after such a loss, but that was not Tauriel’s way. It was not in her to withdraw from a battle before spending all she had. She would not give up so easily, nor sacrifice a treasure she had never hoped to win. He had been hers, if only for a little while, and she would not give him up. The sentiment was practically dwarvish, except that it stemmed not from avarice but regret. For she must live the rest of her life without ever knowing if he had truly understood her heart. On the shores of Esgaroth he had spoken of love, and she had feigned ignorance. Perhaps that was the moment of cowardice when all was lost, but it was not her way to dwell on memory. It was not her way to cede a war after losing a single battle, no matter how devastating that loss.

Dwarves were not given the gift of the second born, after all. They went to the Halls of Aule. They did not cease to be as Men did. Therefore it followed that Kili still existed somewhere, if not within the bounds of Middle Earth. If there was a place, then there was a path. If there was a path, Tauriel would find it. 

As a wood elf she was not high or wise, but she had ears. She was not a great lady, snowy white and pure, seated beside her husband in the lands beyond the sea. Even so, she had the power to listen. In the dark, among the stone of the Lonely Mountain, she listened. Eventually, after time untold in utter silence, she heard the song that called to her heart. And she followed it deeper into the dark.

There were dangers along the path. Orcs and goblins were the least of the fell things that tried to stop her, but she had her bow. She had her knives. She had her wits. When one of the creatures managed to make her bleed, she bound the wound and continued onward. Long was her road, through darkness and stone, and there was no respite for an elf. Parched with thirst, blinded for want of light, and surrounded by enemies, she wanted nothing more than to hear a friendly voice say her name just once. Yet there was no comfort on her road, only the hidden song that led her onward with no guarantee that the Halls of Aule would be found at the end. When a great monster of shadow and flame broke her bow and tried to break her back, she bit and clawed like a shadow thing herself. Though her weapons could not touch it, something about her elvish nature caused it pain. So it came to pass that she strangled the formless evil with her own hair until it dissipated into nothingness. 

In that battle she was badly wounded. Lying broken in the dark, it seemed that she heard a different song, much louder than the one she sought. The melody spoke of leaves under starlight. Cool babbling springs promised water as fresh as any that had ever soothed her throat. Food and friendship awaited her, if only she would turn from her folly and seek it. But there was no love on that path. 

Rising, she checked the runestone in her pocket, left her bow behind, and continued. 

How long then did she travel in the darkness? None can say, for time passes strangely in those places. It is the provenance of many nightmares that the span of a battle can last all the ages of the world yet break with the sunrise. So perhaps Tauriel fought her battles for all the ages of the world. Or perhaps it was only a few centuries that she walked, following the song of Aule. 

Either way, the sun did not rise to end her nightmare. Instead, her road ended in a door. Tall and mighty, it was the ideal behind all dwarven doors. The gates of Erebor were as a dollhouse in comparison. Glowing runes of power inscribed upon the surface gave her the first glimpse of light since she’d come to the deep roads. She could not read them, and they did not give her comfort. Gathering her courage, she knocked. 

No answer came. 

She knocked again, to no result. Calling out brought no answer. Begging for audience had no effect. Attacking the door only injured her, and bleeding upon it did not seem to be the solution. So it seemed she could go no further, and yet she would not go back. Thus, she waited. Elven lives were long. She did not know if she could outlast stone, but for Kili she would try. Squinting at the puzzle of the runes, she bent all her thought upon the door.

“Ho there, Tauriel of the Woodland Realm!” The voice was familiar and made her heart leap strangely. Turning, she saw Fili, brother of Kili, illuminated in the pale light of the magic runes.

“Hail and well met,” she answered, though the words were strange and insufficient. Her own voice was hoarse from lack of use, and tears sprang to her eyes upon the sight of a friendly face. “I have come to visit your brother. Is he near? I would have words with him.” 

Fili laughed. “Oh! Have you come to visit my brother? Well that is surprising news. Everyone will be most surprised to hear that.” 

“Please.” Tauriel had spent so long alone, she did not remember how to bandy words. If she had ever known, for she seemed to remember feeling isolated by such teasing more often than not. “Do not make a mockery of me. I must speak with him. Five minutes only, I beg you.”

Fili’s eyes softened. “You must have something important to tell him, to come all this way for a five minute conversation.” 

“I do. Can he not come out as you have done?”

“Unfortunately, he cannot. Your approach has not gone unnoticed, and many dwarves cry out that it is blasphemy to have you here. The reception might have been better if you’d come twenty years sooner, but Gimli son of Gloin recently chose to sail for the Undying Lands with your Prince Legolas instead of coming here. One person out of place might be an anomaly, but two are a dangerous pattern that ought not be borne. Behind that door everyone is in an uproar, and Kili is very closely watched.” 

“It was good of you to come in his stead.” Tauriel remembered a time long ago in Laketown, just after Kili had been saved from his fever, when Fili had sworn to repay her for aiding his brother. Perhaps that debt was one the dwarf still felt, though in the end both their lives had been lost. 

“Well I have only come to tell you to go away and leave my brother in peace.” Fili winked, softening the blow. “The door is locked, obviously. You cannot get in, so you might as well be off. Find your own people in your own lands. For if you did get into ours, you’d be stuck there with us. We remain in the Halls of Waiting until the breaking of the world, you know. If the door went both ways, Kili would have met you down in the dark a century ago to help you fight.” 

“So if I find the key, Kili and I will be allowed to remain together?”

“Find a key!” Fili grinned as he shouted. “Who said anything about the door having a key?” He raised his thumbs strangely in what seemed to be a sign of approbation. “You have no key in your possession!” Apparently this was going too far, and Fili was indeed watched. He had time only to say, “Too much?” before vanishing completely. 

In the end the riddle of the runes was not so very great. Tauriel took the runestone from her pocket. Though she could not read it, she knew well what it said. It was a promise, after all. Raising it high in her fist, she knocked again upon the door. It opened. No stone, no magic, no force in the world was stronger than a promise that needed to be kept. Head high, Tauriel entered the Hall of Aule, leaving behind any last temptation to dwell once more among her own people.

Then Kili was there, laughing and weeping, just waiting to be kissed. It took her far more than five minutes to say what needed to be said, but that was no great ill. If the time of her trials had been interminable, her time with Kili would be eternal. She called it a fair exchange.

**Author's Note:**

> It is probably blasphemous to the extreme to compare the ears of a silvan elf to the ears of Elbereth, the lady of the Valar who hears all when seated beside her husband Manwe. Yet Elbereth is beloved of elves and might, as a lady who has loved, grant unto her servant the ability to find love even so. Mostly, this idea just wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it.


End file.
